You’re at your desk, working your ass off — or you’re busy pretending to be working your ass off while reading something ludicrously entertaining on NextRound — when all of a sudden the sky blue rectangular Outlook preview box materializes in the bottom right corner of your screen. You see the sender’s name and your gut reaction is to toss your hard drive out the window. Luckily you manage some restraint, which is pretty incredible seeing that you fucking hate Long Winded Email Guy.

Long Winded Email Guy is an asshole. The problem is he doesn’t realize he’s an asshole. He thinks he’s conscientious. He thinks providing enough explanation via email text so that your Spanish-speaking janitor can fully grasp his objective is conscientious. He thinks electronic smiley faces are conscientious. He thinks his cursive email signature is conscientious. He thinks emphasizing his “thanks” with multiple explanation points is conscientious. And sometimes he even thinks stopping by your desk an hour after he sent his thesis of an email just to make sure you got it is conscientious.

You think he sucks.

One day after you received an email narrative from him outlining proper copy machine maintenance you spent a serious thirty seconds pondering ways you might murder him without getting caught. Then you remembered he has a kid.

Level of Mind-Numbing Annoyance: 7 out of 10.

Cool & Tough Retaliations:

• Hijack someone in accounting’s computer and send a succinct email to LWEG outlining what a crippling douchebag he is for using exclamation points.

• Photocopy your ass and leave the copy in his chair with a note asking whether he considers this proper maintenance.

• Sleep with his wife.

• Sign up for info on multiple condo time share opportunities using LWEG’s name and work number.

Yeah, you know who we’re talking about. It’s 2:30PM and you’ve finally shaken the post-lunch grogginess. You’re actually doing work again instead of just trying to figure out how much shit the other dudes in your office will give you if you finally step up and bang the one really slutty receptionist this weekend. But then it happens. You get a whiff of the most potent scent combination on the planet: artificial butter and burnt corn kernels.

You look up to see that stupid bitch that eats popcorn strolling out of the break room with a bucket big enough to refill a pig trough. Why is she leaving the fucking break room? you ask yourself. Why leave the one place suitable for eating ungodly amounts of that smelly shit?

You know where she’s heading. She sits right by you. You hold onto the sliver of hope that she’s just doing someone a favor and about to hand off the bucket, that way the rest of your day won’t be like working from the circus concession stand. But no, that’s just wishful thinking.

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There’s courtesy and then there’s buffoonery. Holding your office building door open for a line of thirty people and smiling and nodding politely as they each pass falls in the latter category.

You know the guy in your office we’re talking about. If you’re next to him in the urinal he’s propping the bathroom door open for you as you finish washing your hands. If a group of guys are in the elevator after a long lunch he dramatically exits, puts his arm over the elevator door, and shepherds you each out like you’re a pack of GD second graders.

And god forbid you witness this guy around any sort of entranceway and a pack of women at the same time. Because the pleasure he gets out of putting on his chivalry cap and holding the door for them is nauseating. He’s got a bunch of lame one-liners stowed away for just the very occasion. And they all look at him like he just slew a dragon for them. You’re pretty sure he gets an erection. You do your best not to punch something.

Yeah, you know the guy. He sucks.

Does he think the door holder routine is going to get him laid or something? Is he on the building management payroll? Hasn’t he heard of affirmative action? “Hey asshole, those chicks are considered our workplace equals and are allowed to join country clubs; think they can handle the door. It’s made of aluminum, not redwood.”

And because of this dude’s lameassery, every time you find yourself holding the door for someone–even when appropriate–you can’t help but feel like a massive tool. So now you make a point not to hold the door for any-fucking-body except that 22 year-old admin who you do think might actually have sex with you. This leads to your co-workers deciding that you’re even more of a dickhead than they originally assumed.

But at least you can sleep at night. And so are the risks of maintaining a cool and tough lifestyle.

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Just about all of us (minus Booth) have day jobs. Some are worse than others. But you can guarantee they all suck on some level. And that the primary cause of this universal day job suckiness is almost always co-workers. Most co-workers fall under stereotypes. Here’s our list of the top 5 that suck the most:

5) That Chick Who Wants to Talk Personal Lives

It’s Monday morning, you feel and look like dogshit. All you want to do is grab as much super caffeinated coffee as you can from the breakroom and get this day over with. You’re just about to head back to your desk and that chick who wants to talk personal lives enters.

She’s miserable. She asks you how you weekend was. You say, “Fine,” which you figure is universally translated to: “Fuck off, it’s Monday morning.” But she takes this as an opening to inform you about her weekend: the crappy movie she saw, and how romantic her boyfriend is, and how she couldn’t believe the weather wasn’t better.

Worst of all, she is soberingly unattractive.

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